Notes: Sequel to Wandering Kind. Don't think too hard on this one! AU in that it assumes Ed got Al's body back, kept his automail, and stayed in Amestris. Unbeta'd.

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It gets lonely, on the other side from you.
-Wuthering Heights, Kate Bush

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Ed couldn't stand in place anymore than he could will his heart to stop beating. Al told him it was just something to get used to, but he couldn't. He just—couldn't.

Roy slept like the dead, the sunlight that fell in stripes across his face from the cracks in the blinds not enough to jar him into consciousness. Ed didn't bother trying to creep carefully out of the bed. Instead, he rolled to the side, onto his feet, off the bed with a practiced ease, pausing for a brief moment to look back at Roy and grab the robe hanging off the edge of the bed before tromping down the stairs to the kitchen, his automail banging loudly against the hardwood.

That is what always woke Roy. He told Ed it sounded like a warzone when Ed was stomping around the house. Roy said it with a smile, though, so Ed figured he shouldn't bother trying to change.

Coffee, first, coffee and then he'd call Al and let him know where he was. The last time they'd spoken had been before Ed ever left Aerugo, from a static-filled phone line in Russel's lab. The grounds were in the cabinet, the fancy brand Roy favored. It tasted burnt to Ed, but Roy usually said it had something to do with sophisticated tastes.

Roy was a bastard.

"Thought you were stomping holes in the stairs," spoke a voice in his ear, a low morning husk. Roy leaned around him to grab a mug, lips brushing Ed's neck before he retreated to the table to spend the time between then and when the coffee was done rubbing his chin and squinting into nowhere.

"Can't help it," Ed said. He set the coffee to brew and went rummaging through the cabinets, grumbling about the general lack of food. "You goin' to work today?"

"I have today off," Roy answered, perking up at the reminder.

"Lazy ass."

Roy shrugged, the robe he'd thrown on straight out of bed sliding off his shoulders just so. "You were gone a long time," he said. "I wanted to see you."

Ed's stomach roiled, unease and guilt churning together into something burning and altogether unpleasant. "I hadn't—expected, you know. To be gone that long."

"I understand," Roy said, and Ed wanted to ask, do you really? because he wasn't so sure he understood it himself. "When are you leaving?"

Again, the odd feeling of guilt. Roy just assumed he'd be leaving? Ed wanted the right to feel indignant, but Roy wasn't so stupid he couldn't trace a pattern. So he settled on a safe answer, "Dunno. I thought I might hang around a while."

It felt nice to say.

"You're alive," Al said. Ed rolled his eyes. "I was beginning to wonder."

"Ha ha," he said dryly. "I don't call you for a few weeks and you think I'm dead? You're as bad as Roy."

"Well, I can't exactly blame him."

The phone was positioned so Ed could only stand as far as the entryway of the kitchen and stare out into the sitting room where Roy sat with the paper, folding it and unfolding and frowning and repeating the process. "I guess."

"What next?" Al asked. "Do you know where you'll be going now?"

Ed shifted the phone to his other ear, tried not to sigh. Al, too? "I was—thinking of staying," he mumbled, low enough that Al could barely hear him. It took his brother a few moments to process the words.

"Really," Al said, quiet. "It would be nice if you did, brother, but don't get anyone's hopes up if you're just going to run off again."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" Ed hissed, stepping back into the kitchen so as not to disturb Roy.

"It's all over, Ed. You're the only one who hasn't moved on," Al said, sounded hesitant about even voicing the words. "It's not easy, staying in one place after so long. Believe me, I know, but it's worth it."

"You were just afraid Winry would hunt you down," Ed joked weakly.

"That too," Al conceded, breaking the tension. "Just consider it, all right?"

He had considered it. Had considered it since the first time he left Roy standing at the train station waving at him and shrinking into the distance. But maybe, Ed thought as he hung up the phone, it was time to do more than consider.

"That was quick," Roy said when Ed walked out of the kitchen, not bothering to look up from the paper.

"You know Al," Ed said.

Roy folded up the paper and set it on the arm of the chair, dark eyes gleaming with amusement. He patted his knee. Ed gave him the finger and sat down on the loveseat.

"Just keep it up," Ed said threateningly. The grin on Roy's face was immune to Ed's menacing because it stayed firmly in place. Ed scoffed and crossed his arms.

"We should do something," Roy said. "I just don't know what."

"We are doing something."

"You have the most unromantic soul," Roy said dryly. "I mean something celebratory."

Celebratory? Ed didn't really understand what there was to celebrate, but Roy looked into the idea, so he relented. "Yeah, sure."

Roy rattled on about some restaurant or other, about making reservations and ironing his suit. Ed listened half-heartedly, a great deal more interested in watching Roy than actually paying any mind to the man's plans.

It seemed a crime, sitting three feet from Roy and doing nothing about it when he'd just spent months away from the man. Why had he even gotten out of bed? he asked himself.

"The owner owes me a favor, so—"

Ed shifted, stretching his arm across the back of the loveseat, and looked pointedly at Roy.

"—five o'clock, that sounds good, we could—"

But damn, did that man like to hear himself talk! Ed scowled and tapped his foot. When Roy continued babbling to himself about restaurants and owners and times, Ed tapped with his other foot, the automail clanging loudly on the floor, obscuring Roy's words.

With a dry look, Roy's mouth clicked shut, eyebrows at his hairline. "I take it you're unsatisfied with my plans?"

"I was just thinking," Ed said, trying not to sound snide, "that it's awfully cold in this room." Another exaggerated stretch of his arm, and if Roy didn't hurry up and get it, then Ed was going to have to shove his head through a fucking wall.

Roy snorted, obviously amused, and moved from his chair to the other half of the loveseat. "Subtlety isn't one of your strengths."

"Just shut your damn mouth."

And Roy did, managing to shut Ed's mouth at the same time in a skilled display of multitasking. "Or," Roy said, mouthing the words against Ed's lips, "we could just stay here."

Maybe Al was right. Maybe there really was something to the whole 'staying in place' thing—and this time, Ed would hang around long enough to figure out what.